Run
Written By: lack0fc0l0r
Disclaimer: I don't own Oliver Queen, Lois Lane, Smallville, or any of the other awesome stuff from the CW. Just FYI.
Summary: Lois Lane has managed to push Oliver Queen, the love of her life, far from her mind since he left for Star City. Ollie, however, has not, and when his superhero duties bring him back to Smallville and back to the woman he fell in love with four years later, he finds the same feelings coming back.
A/N: Not my first fanfic ever, but definitely my first Lollie. This was inspired by the song "Run" by Snow Patrol and several other less noteworthy songs. R&R, it's much appreciated. Also, it's rated M for possible content in later chapters.
Chapter One- The Reason
"This is it, the moment, right? The moment I'm gonna regret for the rest of my life, isn't it?" Ollie asked, already knowing the answer. Lois did too, for she did not hesitate to say a simple 'yes', kiss him one last time, and walk out the door. Couldn't she see? This, everything he was doing, was for her. For people like her, who needed hope more than anyone else. He was going to save the world, even if she would not be waiting for him when he came back. He would do it for her.
"Mr. Queen, we'll be landing shortly." Brown eyes glanced up from the newspaper article in the Daily Planet, acknowledging the information as the man took a sip of scotch. The five o'clock shadow along his jaw proved that he had forgotten to shave that morning out of impatience, and on the top of his head was the same blonde hair that it had always been, a little messier than normal. That must have happened during the five minute nap he'd taken only moments before, proving that he really did still need gel. A strong, calloused hand set the glass back down and the assistant picked it up without a word, taking it to the back and leaving his employer to be on his own.
A heavy-hearted sigh escaped Oliver's lips as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the chair. How was he going to manage this little visit to the small, insignificant town of Smallville? Seeing Lois again would hurt, he wasn't going to lie to himself, but it was going to be seeing her with Clark that would cast the fatal blow. Ollie could still remember the phone call from Clark, who was hoping it would be okay with his colleague. It hadn't been, and still wasn't, but Oliver knew Lois deserved someone like Clark; someone who was there, who would put her first, and, more importantly, someone who wouldn't leave. That was someone Oliver just was not.
He ran a hand haphazardly through his hair, opening his eyes to look down at the newspaper article. On the front page was a headline blaring 'Up, up and away!', with a rather blurry picture of Clark as his new identity, Superman, and the author none other than Lois Lane. She had come a long way since he had left her with The Inquisitor chasing after the Green Arrow. Some things never changed. The only difference was now it was Clark who had to worry, not Ollie, and that did anything other than relieve him. In fact, it rather pissed him off that now she was chasing another superhero, one far better than Green Arrow with more raw talent; one who she probably thought was better looking.
He shoved the newspaper and a few files off the table with his hand angrily, his jaw set and eyes burning as he rested his face in his hands for a moment. Lois had said she wouldn't wait. She had blatantly told him amidst trying to fight back the tears not to expect her to be available when he got back, no matter how long that was. It just hadn't occurred to Ollie that it would be one of his best friends, or at least someone he thought was his friend. Bruce had stoically told him to calm down and not go to Smallville- "You'll lose your temper and you know it"- but Ollie hadn't listened. He never listened to Bruce, even when he knew the man was right.
The private jet landed smoothly, just as it normally did, and the warm Martha Kent was waiting on the airstrip to greet him. Her smile was infectious, just as it had always been, and he found himself smiling in spite of his grim mood. After getting off the steps, he closed the distance between the pair with each step of his black dress shoes, embracing her in a friendly hug. She was the closest thing to a mother he had had ever since his own mother's death, even if he had only just met her four years ago. After they parted, she inspected him in that motherly manner, particularly in the spot on his forehead where he had been stitched up. After deciding he was okay other than that, the smile returned to her face and she asked, "How've you been? Is everything going well?"
"Everything's fine, I've been good. A little worse for wear, but good." He replied with his usual grin, every word of that statement a lie. Martha seemed to notice too, for she looked up at him with a bit of skeptical look before just settling on that answer. He was a mess- his hair, the unshaven jaw, the bags under his eyes, and the various wounds, both inside and out, told her so. He was a split second away from asking about Clark, and more particularly Lois, when his assistant interrupted.
"Mr. Queen, your bags are loaded into the car. Do you require anything else?" He said in a monotonous tone, the same way he had on the plane and all the times before that. Very much unlike Alfred, Bruce's butler and long-time friend, whom he'd had the pleasure of meeting on several occasions. Still, it kept the relationship strictly business so that, in the event that Oliver needed to fire him, there were no friendly ties.
"Uh, no, thank you." He shook his head, the assistant heading back to the plane. Just a week of vacation, strictly no business; especially not hero business. Bruce and Bart agreed to keep their eyes out for trouble, leaving Oliver with no cause for worry. Of course, who could expect him not to? He already felt the guilt of having left the people without their hero. Oh well, they had Superman now, why did they need him?
The car ride to the Kent Farm with Martha was rather uneventful to be sure; small talk about Washington D.C., Luthor Corps. latest escapades, and how the farm was going. Mrs. Kent had tried to bring up Clark, his wellbeing, and that of Lois as well on several occasions, though Oliver had changed the subject faster than Bart could run. She had noticed his avoidance of the topic early on, thank God, and had given up on discussing the pair; she would leave it for when they arrived at the farm.
As the car pulled onto the dirt path, Oliver found the moment rather bittersweet. He loved that farm, the humble charm it possessed, and the way it held an air of peace about it. That was why he had chosen to stay there versus his penthouse- peace. Though, if Clark and Lois were to show up, he was certain that the penthouse would have been the better option. He had it as a failsafe in the event that the week went by a little too slowly. "I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here, Mrs. Kent. Getting away from the city is a rare pleasure for me."
"You're always welcome here, Oliver. You know that. Anyways, Clark insisted that I not let you stay anywhere else. He's rather excited to see you." There she went again, bringing up her son, the man who had caused Oliver so much trouble. Not that he had not expected her to; after all, he was the next big thing, and she must have been overwhelmed with pride. He put on a grin and nodded, pretending to be eager to see the younger man as well.
The car stopped and the chauffer opened the door as was his job. Ollie let Martha out first before following, immediately greeted by the older Krypto. After roughing around with him a good bit, his brown eyes looked up to the house, and standing on the porch was the man Oliver had grown to love and to hate- Clark. The farm boy's grin was proof to Martha's statement from before, and he soon came quickly down the steps to pull Oliver into a masculine embrace. The billionaire wanted nothing more than to get away from him, though without Lois there, he had to admit it was good to see his old friend. Pulling away, a genuine grin on his face, Oliver noted that Clark had a more mature look going on than he had when he had left.
His dark brown hair was no longer messy, but instead combed and slightly slicked back. He was wearing glasses, which caused a quizzical look to cross the now twenty-nine year old's face. However, there was one thing that had not changed, and that was the lack of cuts and bruises from his own adventures in Metropolis. Clark was untouchable, quite unlike Ollie, who had almost died on several occasions. With a laugh, he questioned in a taunting manner, "What's with the glasses, Clark? What happened to the invincible Clark Kent?"
"Oh haha, very funny. Nice to know you haven't changed a bit." The younger man laughed, creases forming in the corners of his blue eyes as if to remind Oliver of just how much time had gone by since the pair had seen each other in person. Clark was still young, twenty-three to be exact, but already showed signs of the heavy weight of the world that Metropolis had thrown on his shoulders. However, one thing would never change, and it was the fact that Clark was indeed a good two inches shorter. Oliver would always have him beat in that area.
"Of course I've changed, Clark. You just can't see it yet." Oliver's tone had changed from joking to quite serious in a matter of seconds, his face no longer holding the same carefree smile it had moments ago. His eyes then looked past Clark to the porch again as a new person showed up. Clark's faced openly expressed his confusion before he turned his head to see Lois standing there, the pair staring at each other solemnly. He had expected this, especially after their abrupt, heartbreaking end, but now it was actually happening.
She went down the steps in no hurry at all, taking her brown eyes off of Oliver's, and went over to Clark's side to stand in front of Ollie. Then she looked up, forcing a smile. It was clear in that moment that these four years had been just as bad for her as they had been for him. This entire week had probably been torture knowing he was coming back, finally, like he had said he was not going to do. "Hey Ollie."
"Hey." Oliver replied after swallowing the huge lump in his throat, for once not knowing what to say. She glanced at the various cuts and scrapes, both the healed and the healing, with a hint of concern in her eyes before she leaned into Clark. Whether it was purposefully done to rub it in his face or not, Oliver felt the blow as if it were a smack in the face. He forced a yawn out in an excuse to get out of the current situation, burying all hints of jealousy, anger, and sorrow underneath the false emotion of exhaustion. "I wish I could chat, but I'm jet-lagged. Star City's several hours ahead, I would be asleep by now."
It was a sorry excuse for a man who traveled as much as Oliver did, and the truth was he hardly slept anymore. Still, neither of them questioned him as Clark took him up to the spare bedroom that he would be staying in. Only two hours in Smallville and already he was losing his cool. Bruce was right- this was a mistake and Oliver knew it.